


Someone to Watch Over me

by bekindplsrewind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Highschool AU, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Sad Ending, Swearing, john and mary are good and loving parents, same with chuck and becky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekindplsrewind/pseuds/bekindplsrewind
Summary: Dean wakes up one morning to some horrible news from his parents.
Relationships: Becky Rosen/Chuck Shurley, Castiel/Dean Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 40





	Someone to Watch Over me

**Author's Note:**

> i participated in [misha-moose-dean-burger-lover's](https://misha-moose-dean-burger-lover.tumblr.com/) #angsty-angstweek challenge, and this was actually, the second idea i came up with XD. [the first one involved a really _really_ messed up dream, ahem] i hope y'all enjoy!
> 
>  **author's note:** please listen to 'someone to watch over me' by ella fitzgerald at the end, as the title is based on that song. :)

The sound of a loud crash launched Dean from his desk, leading him to throw open his window and practically heave half of himself outside. The gutter—which was normally hidden below the trim of roofing—was jutting out, groaning and still swaying freely off its hinges, a sign that the culprit was probably close by. As if on cue, a low moan came from below. Dean braced on his arms and leaned over to see Castiel sprawled out next to the trash bin.

“Cas! Are you all right?” he whispered loudly, eyes bulging with concern.

Castiel rolled over and pushed himself to his feet, hunching forward and a hand planted to his lower back. “Y-yeah, just… a little sore.” He whimpered and grimaced as he placed his other hand to the back of his head.

Dean’s concern morphed into a slow smile. “Hey, did I leave my glasses at your place? I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t find them.”

Castiel huffed a sigh as he straightened up and stretched his neck. “No, I haven’t seen them.”

“Shit! Mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out I lost them again!”

Castiel managed a smile despite the pain. “I’ll keep looking.” He winked.

“Dean?” Dean snapped around at the sound of John’s voice, obviously having been alerted by Castiel’s crash. His footsteps creaked louder as he neared Dean’s bedroom.

“Quick, my dad’s coming!” Dean said, turning back to Castiel. “You gotta go!” He gestured with both hands. “Go! Before he sees what you did here and have your ass, too!”

The last thing he saw that night was Castiel fixing the trash bin then scampering off the lawn to his bike.

* * *

Castiel was absent from school the next day. Figuring he’d caught the flu that was going around, Dean decided to call him after class.

“Hey, just checking in to see how you’re doing.” Dean got the answering machine, so Castiel was either really sick in bed, had his head in the toilet puking his guts out, or had gone out to grab some medicine. “Not sure if you’ll be feeling any better tonight, but if you want to come by later to hang out, just give me a call so I can unlock my window. Feel better, okay? Bye.”

He didn’t get a call back. And with all the straining he’d put his eyes through without his glasses, he went to bed early.

* * *

It was the middle of the night when Dean was awakened by a sudden shift on his mattress. He sleepily glanced over his shoulder to see Castiel faced away, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Jesus, Cas,” he mumbled, “what time is it?” He rubbed at his eyes.

“Sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Castiel said, sincerely. “I know, it’s late.”

“You didn’t call, so I wasn’t expecting you.” Dean rolled over to face him. “I wasn’t going to wait all night for you, you know,” he teased.

“Yeah, I know.” Castiel smiled softly.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much. Now, go back to sleep.”

Dean blinked languidly and grinned. “You, weirdo. Is that one of your fetishes? Watching me sleep?”

Castiel laughed and shook his head. “Hey, I found your glasses,” he placed them on the nightstand, “they were hanging precariously on the edge of your laundry hamper.”

“Shit, was that where they were? Thanks, Cas,” he said through a yawn.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

“My dad almost had a heart attack when he saw what you’d done to the gutter this morning,” he drawled with closed eyes. “Blamed it on the neighbour’s cat. Or raccoons.” They shared a laugh. “He went to the hardware store and got a shitload of stuff to reinforce the whole damn thing, too.” Dean yawned again.

For a moment, Castiel said nothing but watched him with a smile. “I need to go now.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly to Dean’s in a kiss. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“Love you, too,” Dean mumbled, already turning over to sleep.

* * *

Dean woke up early and refreshed for once, thinking he’d make it to school with ample time to spare. He headed downstairs to the kitchen to the scene of his mother talking quietly on the phone and his father standing nearby. Sam was already seated at the table with breakfast.

Mary glanced up as Dean opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice. Just as he was about to drink from the carton, he paused to see everyone watching him.

“Okay, okay,” Dean set the juice down on the counter and reached into the cupboard, “I’ll get a glass.”

“Thank you for letting us know.” Mary hung up the phone and exchanged a wordless conversation with her husband. John ran a palm over his mouth and sighed. “Dean, honey,” she turned to their eldest son, “we need to talk.”

Dean nearly sputtered on his half empty glass. “It wasn’t me, it was Sammy!”

John spoke more firmly, “Sit down, son.”

Dean’s gaze flicked between them, taking into account that their expressions were too serious for comfort. He crossed his arms defiantly, ignoring the rise of panic in the back of his mind that something was more than wrong. “No, I’ll stand. Just tell me what’s going on already.”

Mary sighed, drained; her youthful looking face seeming to age fifteen years in one breath. “It’s Cas,” she said, her eyes bleary.

His heart leapt in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “What about him?” Dean challenged, brows furrowed.

“Dean,” John began slowly, “he was admitted to the hospital yesterday.”

His heart hammered in his chest. “…What? But he’s fine, now; I just saw him last night.” Another damn lump had popped up in his throat again, but no matter how much he swallowed, it wouldn’t go down.

John and Mary exchanged looks.

“That’s not possible, son,” John said, gravely.

With the way they seemed so self assured, Dean was starting to doubt what he’d seen, wondering whether he had dreamt it all up. He garnered a glance to his brother, silently watching, cereal untouched.

“That was Mrs. Novak on the phone.” Mary sniffled, quick to wipe away some tears that had escaped. “She… she called to let us know that… that Cas—” Her face crumpled and she turned to John for comfort, allowing him to pull her in closer as he stroked her hair.

“Mom? _Mom!_ Cas what?” Dean stared at her with hard and demanding eyes. “What happened to Cas?”

John cradled Mary as she wept quietly into his shoulder and spoke in her stead. “Cas suffered a fatal concussion. He passed away last night.”

“No… he—” He stared at them in disbelief. Dean was beginning to think that this was the sickest joke they had ever played on him till Sam burst into loud and uncontrollable sobs.

Sam shot up from the table and ran to his parents from behind, ramming himself between John and Mary as he pressed his face into his mother’s chest. Mary could barely keep herself contained now, her restrained cries coming out of her throat in waves. In all Dean’s life, he’d never seen his father cry, but even John’s eyes were red and welling, his gaze locked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly so that the tears wouldn’t fall.

Mary peeked out at Dean, her cheeks wet. “I’m sorry, Dean.” She held an outstretched arm in invitation, welcoming him to join them in their grief.

John opened his arm to him, too. “Come here, son.”

Everything was happening so fast. Dean barely had time to react, leaving him to just stand idle and watch as everything unfolded in front of him. “What the fuck… what the _fuck_ is this!” He bolted upstairs, the sound of his mother calling after him thin and distant as he slammed his door behind him.

 _They’re lying to me! They’re fucking lying!_ Dean picked up his phone and immediately started dialling Castiel’s number. _Cas is home. I’ll fucking shove it in their faces!_

After several rings, a mournful voice answered. “Hello?”

Dean’s stomach dropped. It was in that moment, he knew the truth. “Mrs. Novak…?” Dean managed to croak. The strength in his legs vanished and he leaned back against the door for support.

“Dean? Oh, honey, my baby Castiel… he’s gone.”

He slid down in a heap. For a long minute, Dean did nothing but listen to her weep. His vision blurred and his face folded. Dean wiped at his eyes and forced himself to swallow down a sob. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Novak. I’m so sorry,” he whispered before hanging up.

With his knees to his chest, Dean buried his face in his arms and cried by himself for a long while.

“Honey?” Mary knocked softly. “Are you all right?”

“Go away,” Dean stuttered, gasping between his words.

“Dean, open the door.”

“I said, go away!” Dean raised his head in anger and caught sight of his glasses.

The events of last night rushed back to him. Even through his sleepy haze, he could remember it all perfectly: the curve of Castiel’s back, how his long fingers had placed his glasses down with so much care, the tenderness of his kiss on his lips.

Dean picked up his glasses and turned them slowly in his grasp. “He was here… he was here!”

He threw open the door to see Mary still standing in the hallway. “He was here, Mom!” he said, showing her his glasses.

Mary frowned as she glanced down at them. “No, he wasn’t.” She looked at her son carefully as she shook her head.

“He found my glasses and returned them to me last night.”

“No, Dean—”

“I’m not fucking crazy!” Dean yelled. “He came through my window,” he said, gesturing as he stomped back into his room. When he drew close enough, his eyes fell to the metal latch. His motions were mechanical as he unlocked it. “Did you come into my room last night and lock my window?” he asked, quietly.

“Dean, honey, you need to sit down and relax,” Mary said, coming forward.

He shrugged away from her hand. “Don’t touch me!” He ran, dashing past her downstairs, and out the front door.

He pulled his bike out of the garage, slowing as he neared his bedroom window. All the supplies John had bought were left untouched on the lawn, and the gutter remained warped and unhinged as it flapped in the wind. Dean forced his eyes away, reasoning against all logic that it couldn’t be possible.

He raced to the Novaks’ and dumped his bike on the lawn as quickly as he could, no pause for thought as he frantically rang the doorbell.

Castiel’s father, Chuck, answered the door, eyes red and demeanour solemn. Dean’s question died in his throat, unable to form the simple, ‘is Cas there?’ like he’d done so many times before out of habit. Instead, Chuck took a step towards him and patted him on the shoulder.

“Come in, Dean,” he said, a sad smile on his face.

Like a child, Dean merely nodded and listened. He could hear Castiel’s mother crying harder as he neared the living room, the sound of it even more stinging in person.

“Honey, Dean’s here,” Chuck announced.

Becky stood up abruptly from the couch, a wad of tissues in her hand as she opened her arms to him in an embrace. Dean kept still and waited. Her grip was tight as she pressed her head against his shoulder, and not a moment sooner, another set of arms joined her, trapping Dean from even an inch of wiggle room.

“Oh, Dean,” Becky mumbled into his shoulder. They held him for a while as they openly wept over him.

It felt like he was watching himself from across the room. He was numb. It wasn’t his place to reject them in their time of need; they’d always been so kind and hospitable to him like they were his second family. But their crying, it was starting to grate on his nerves. He didn’t belong there. He wanted to get away.

Becky finally let up. “You probably want to see his room, huh?” she said through a forced smile. “Go on up there. Take as much time as you need.”

Dean swallowed thickly and nodded, trekking up the familiar stairs.

It was quiet, but Castiel’s door always looked warm and welcoming. The knob turned smoothly, and the door swung open with ease.

“Cas…?” Dean whispered, expecting to see his boyfriend sitting on his bed with a stupid grin on his face, just bursting to say, ‘surprise!’ or, ‘I gotcha good, didn’t I?’

But, there was no one there to greet him.

Dean shut the door behind him as he looked around the room. He’d been in there so many times before, but everything looked strange and alien to him now. Some posters of Castiel’s favourite movies were plastered on the walls (rather, they were Dean’s favourites that he had made him watch with him). A few trophies and awards glinted on one corner shelf of the bookcase, but the majority of it was filled with books, ranging from world mythology, history, and lore. Castiel was always interested in things like.

His bed was neat and made too, and his desk was organised and cleared of clutter. Dean frowned when he noticed the chair was sticking slightly out and tucked it in, his gaze falling to the couple of photographs that were clipped to the photo holder sitting on the desktop. In one, they were at a bowling alley. Dean had his arm slung around Castiel’s shoulder, and the both of them were grinning as they posed with their bowling balls. That was taken a couple years ago, just before they started dating. Next to it, they were dressed in formal wear, sharing the same shy smiles as they fumbled to affix their matching boutonnieres to each other’s lapels. It was junior prom, and they were going together as dates.

Dean sank down on Castiel’s bed and grabbed his pillow to his chest. God, it smelled so much like him. Only realising now that he’d been holding his glasses the entire time, Dean started to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. It’s my fault, it’s my fault!”

Revelation finally broke down his walls. Dean knew that he’d never see his best friend again. Never be able to share another joke with him, another laugh. He’d never get to steal the bacon from his burgers, or hold him, or kiss him again. He’d never get to share a dorm room with him, or buy a house with him. Never get to bend down on one knee and ask him to marry him, start a family with him.

Dean had lost his best friend. And the love of his life.

* * *

The next time Dean saw him, they were both dressed in black again. Dean approached the open casket and touched Castiel’s cold hand before slipping the dried boutonniere in his lapel. His face looked peaceful, like he was sleeping.

“Goodbye, Cas,” Dean whispered tearfully.

* * *

Several years later, having graduated college and earning a degree, Dean found himself in a career that paid well. He lived in a single bedroom apartment with a killer view, and drove the car of his dreams. And even though he’d been fairly successful in his life so far, he’d still misplace his glasses at times. As luck would have it, they would be waiting for him on his nightstand the next morning.

And with a wistful smile, Dean would always reply: “Thanks, Cas.”

**Author's Note:**

> a little side note: [thanks to alice for reminding me!] in this fic, castiel had a love for oldies music, and ella fitzgerald was one of his favourite singers. dean never had an interest in listening to anything but his classic rock, but after these events, he found himself missing him and recalling how much cas loved her voice. finally, dean decided to give her music a try and realised why cas was so enamored with her. she became a form of comfort when dean started to miss cas. i imaged at the end of this scene/story, dean puts on her record and listens to this song:
> 
> _There's a somebody I'm longin' to see_   
>  _I hope that he turns out to be_   
>  _Someone who'll watch over me_
> 
> thank you all for reading! if you liked it, maybe you'd like to leave a kudos, too? and if you _really_ liked it, perhaps you'd like to leave your thoughts? ;)
> 
> you can find and yell at me at my spn tumblr! [seagullmichael](https://seagullmichael.tumblr.com/)


End file.
